


Not With Haste

by Pentamatr



Series: Thunder on the Mountain [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Friendship, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:05:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2045331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pentamatr/pseuds/Pentamatr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of the Thunder of the Mountain series (set after "No Quarter" and "Slow and Steady") where Bilbo is summoned back to Erebor by Thorin. He has made his decision to return, but he quickly realizes change does not necessarily happen overnight or even over a year. Thorin still battles with the remnants of his gold sickness, Fili's head injury has changed his life forever, while Kili is back to being along the sidelines watching his family quietly suffer while dealing with his own grief. Bilbo is determined to help his family, but if he ignores his own demons for too long he may not be able to help anyone. Even himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not With Haste

**Author's Note:**

> Many continued thanks to my beta/sanity: cakelydemise
> 
> And thank YOU for continuing to read this series! It will help to read "No Quarter" and "Slow and Steady" as there will be moments in those stories referenced in this one, as well as OCs that were previously introduced, but it could still be read on its own if you prefer.

Bilbo was slow to wake, much too comfortable in the soft bed curled up in a spot warmed by the morning sun. He was not, however, slow to realize he was alone. Without opening his eyes he confirmed the lack of snores, heavy breathing, and soft murmurs of his current dwarven company. There was a distinct lack of a prince beside him as well, and that was what prompted him to finally climb out of bed.

With a long stretch, arms high above his head, his keen ears were able to pick up the sounds of the tavern below. It must have been where the others were at that time. As kind as they were to let him sleep, the grumbling of his stomach as he hastily dressed made him wish they woke him sooner. It simply wouldn’t do to enter Erebor without a proper meal in his belly.

_Oh Valar._

He paused for a moment, reminding himself to breathe before continuing on. Today was the day, and he had better hop to it.

His hobbit feet were silent as he carefully padded into the busy tavern. It wasn’t large at all but it was packed, leading him to believe that the time had to be close to noon. Despite his best intentions of finding the dwarves without panicking, the anxiety he had before about waking up late coiled low in his belly and threatened to send his thoughts racing.

_I wish we were there already so I can finally calm down!_

It was a testament to his frazzled state of mind that it took Belis, who was ordering another round of the drinks at the bar right next to Bilbo, a few tries to catch the hobbit’s attention.

“Oi laddie! Are you all right?”

Bilbo finally turned and was relieved to see his companion.

“Just tired,” he quickly responded, walking over to the dwarf. “Trying to get my bearings.”

“Ah, well, the lads are over by that window there.” Bilbo followed Belis’s pointing finger and managed to catch sight of Dunmir’s red hair. “I’ll order breakfast for you if you’d like to have a seat.”

“I...yes, thank you.”

Bilbo made his way over to the rest of the company after nodding gratefully to Belis. He wasn’t too surprised to see that their table, despite the bustling tavern, was more secluded than the other ones. Perhaps it was wise since Kíli was royalty, but upon further inspection Bilbo was shocked to see that his dwarves were not the only ones at the table.

“There he is,” Bofur spoke up, turning from the others to offer Bilbo a smile. “Thought we’d have to send someone soon to wake ya.”

“Bard,” Bilbo managed to say. The man was sitting at the head of the table, documents in front of him, and only looked up from his discussion with Kíli  when Bilbo spoke his name.

“Master Baggins.” Bard stood and gave a slight bow, much to Bilbo’s confusion. Anger returned to the hobbit as well, for it was Bard who betrayed their deal and ultimately let Thorin know Bilbo went behind his back with the Arkenstone. “It is a pleasure to see you again, and in better health. The City of Dale welcomes you back to this part of the world.”

Bilbo didn’t know what to say, how to respond to such civility when Bard knew what he did to him. Instead he stood there, a flush of anger reaching his cheeks, but soon Kíli came to his rescue.

“Will you sit with us, Mister Bilbo?” the lad asked gently. “We’re going over trade agreements you might find interesting.”

Bilbo stared at Bard, who didn’t even flinch, a moment longer before looking down at Kíli with a sigh.

“Of course, Kíli.”

The prince’s smile managed to lighten his mood somewhat, but not even the plate full of sausage, eggs, and potato Belis brought him could fully distract him from staring down Bard as he continued talking. He could hardly be blamed for his distrust of the man. If not for his betrayal, who knew what would have become of Thorin? The king could have been cured of his sickness or at least deterred from it, and Bilbo could have even been living in Erebor this whole time! He would have been able to sit by Thorin’s side helping him heal instead of halfway across the world thinking he had lost everything!

“-bring in more than our original agreement then I think we will be better off.”

“You may be right. What do you think?”

Bilbo didn’t even realize Kíli directed the question at him until everyone was staring his way. He swallowed his eggs hard, looked away from Bard and down at the papers before saying halfheartedly,

“Er, I agree.”

“I’m glad we see eye to eye, Master Baggins,” Bard nodded.

 _Hardly._ Bilbo had to contain his snort of derision, hiding his frown in his tankard and starting to lose his appetite.

He respected the man before he went back on his word, thinking him honorable and just especially when the town he lived in was suffering under the control of an egotistical fool. Bard worked to do right by his people and family, yet when Bilbo considered it he remembered the man never fully trusted the dwarves. Of course he feared what would happen once they woke Smaug, rightly so. He even risked his own life to kill the beast. He betrayed Bilbo soon after, desperate for gold to save his people surely, but there was no honor in how he went about doing it. Truly it cost Bilbo dearly and he would be surprised if he ever came to trust the man again.

After Kíli and Bard finished whatever it was they were discussing- Bilbo was still too distracted to focus- the both of them stood and shook hands.

“I appreciate your willingness to meet with me here,” Bard said, “I hope you have found our rooms accommodating.”

“Of course, and they were just fine,” Kíli nodded. Bilbo heard Bofur mutter something about the beds from behind, making him smile.

They parted for their rooms once Bilbo assured them he was finished eating, their minds on packing and heading for Erebor at last. Bilbo was just about to follow after them when Bard stopped him.

“I heard Thorin summoned you.”

Bilbo stopped in his tracks, taking in a deep breath before turning back to him.

“Did you hear or were you told?”

“Rumors that a dwarven party were sent out by King Thorin himself to retrieve a halfling from the West are certainly not heard here every day.”

“Well, here I am. He seems to desire my company so I’m only happy to give it. You see,” he continued bitterly, “I left thinking he died hating me. It is quite a relief to learn otherwise, in both respects.”

“I am happy to hear that.”

“Although I would have preferred not going through a year of my life thinking I was permanently banished from the home of my friends, one I risked my own life to reclaim, and that the ones I love dearly had died. I like to think I could have been there with them instead, offering whatever aid I could.”

Bilbo was aware of his voice getting louder, but at this point it was only a matter of time. Bard’s expression was unreadable, though his brow furrowed while Bilbo talked.

“I see,” was the man’s response. “I do not make it a habit of begging the forgiveness of others, but since I have wronged you then that makes me in your debt.”

“I really don’t want anything from you,” Bilbo huffed. “You gave me your word and you betrayed me. I don’t see why we should have any further dealings with each other.”

“We may if you intend to live in Erebor, although the relationship Thorin and I share is strained. That was why I sought out Kíli instead this morning. The prince and I have a better history.”

Bilbo quirked an eyebrow. He was curious despite his anger.

“How so?”

“When Kíli was regent he was open to my ideas and provided my people with much needed support. We worked well together and I believe he is half the reason Dale is improving so quickly.”

“He is a good lad.”

“It may be of some comfort to you to know what became of the Arkenstone.” Bilbo grimaced, but Bard went on. “Will you hear of it?”

“Does Thorin have it?”

“No,” Bard shook his head. “Kíli and I agreed it was best to return it to where it was found.”

“So it’s in Erebor?”

“Where it should have stayed undisturbed to begin with.”

“And what does Thorin have to say about that?”

“He thinks it is long gone, traded off in exchange for gold.”

“That must upset him,” Bilbo murmured, feeling for the king. The stone was, after all, a very precious piece of the mountain Thorin treasured greatly before it made his dragon sickness worse.

“We are all better off without him having it and the Lonely Mountain is at peace at last.”

“I know that.” Bilbo looked back up at Bard. “It was wise to do so, but Thorin cannot be disregarded. It will take time for him to realize he is better without it. In the meantime, he is missing a piece of his heritage.”

Bard’s frown was deep at this point.

“If regaining his entire kingdom isn’t good enough then he has lost his mind entirely.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Bilbo sighed. He was starting to feel a headache coming on. “I can’t explain it in any way that will do it justice, but I like to think I know how his mind works. Even now.” He shook his head. “He can’t be expected to change overnight.”

_He can’t be expected to be the same without the Arkenstone. If I ever lost my ring…_

Almost immediately he dismissed the thought, a shiver coursing through him.

“We don’t have much time to spare.” Bard looked around them while Bilbo simmered. “I’ve no doubt he is better, but in such a fragile time we need the King of Erebor to be at his best.”

“Surely he is allowed time to breathe,” Bilbo scoffed. “If you were on that journey with us and heard the tales those dwarves told you would think so too.”

“I’ve had my own journey, Master Baggins.” Bard looked back at him, finally some fire in his eyes. “I fully intend on making sure my home is safe now that the dragon is gone. I will do whatever it takes to ensure that and I am entitled to my opinions on the matter. The orcs are still out there. Rumors of a new evil rising can be heard if you listen close enough. Time will only tell if Bolg is capable of what his scum of a sire managed, but we need to be prepared in any case. That means every one of us needs to be in top condition, especially our kings.”

“You have been made King of Dale,” Bilbo remembered.

“Aye,” Bard said dismissively, “after the Master left.”

“You understand the pressure then.”

“I don’t have time for pressure.”

“Really,” Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Deep down there is no whisper of doubt, something holding you back from being the best you can be? I for one wouldn’t want a king who is afraid of his emotions.”

“Then by those standards you already have an acceptable king.”

Bilbo was stunned at first, his brain trying to process the words as either an insult or compliment to Thorin.

“What do you-”

“Thorin Oakenshield has shown his hand,” Bard sighed. He seemed to grow weary of their conversation, but Bilbo pressed him on. “He’s had a change of heart and for all of his pride he still invited you back for all to see.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It makes him vulnerable. Everyone knows of the business with the Arkenstone.”

“How?”

Bard looked at him curiously.

“Do you not come from a small town? Word travels fast, especially when it takes the mind off of such great tragedy.”

“I suppose I do know what that’s like,” Bilbo murmured, thinking of Hobbiton. It didn’t even take a tragedy for tales and rumors to spread about, especially given how many markets and parties there were on a daily basis. “So they know Thorin and I…” He faltered. What were they even considered now?

“They suspect something, but they’re mostly just curious. Expect stares and gossip, but little confrontation.”

 _That’s a relief,_ Bilbo thought, _but I do wonder what the kingdom of Erebor thinks about all this._

“I hope your return means better things for Erebor,” Bard went on.

“I’ll start with Thorin.”

“Whatever helps our cities.”

“Do you even care for Thorin?” Bilbo wondered bluntly. Bard sighed, glancing down at his papers before meeting Bilbo’s eyes again.

“I care for my people. As long as they depend on the success of Erebor then I care a great deal for that dwarven city as a whole.”

“That’s a crafty way of saying you only care politically.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Bard shrugged. “You are intelligent and deserve more than that. Thorin is very lucky to have you.”

“I would cross Middle Earth a hundred times for him,” Bilbo stated.

“Then you care for him more than any man ever could and I hope your love for him is strong enough to see us all through.” Before Bilbo could respond, Bard’s gaze travelled to something behind him. “I fear I have kept you long enough, Master Baggins.”

“Thought ya were behind us, laddie,” came Bofur’s voice.

Bilbo turned to see the dwarves walking back to them, supplies packed and on their backs.

“But then Rega saw that you were talking to Bard,” Kíli said, handing the hobbit his pack.

“Thank you,” he said as he shouldered it. He must have had odd expression on his face for he had to shake his head when Kíli looked at him with concern.

“My apologies,” Bard said. “I should be off anyway. My thanks again for meeting with me on such short notice, Kíli, and I wish you all a safe journey back. Good afternoon.”

“We had best set out,” Kíli said after the man left, “if we are to make it before the dinner bell, in any case.”

They would arrive at Erebor that night, but still had a few more hours of walking to do. Through the city they went, watching as it was being rebuilt all around them. Considering what it used to look like Dale really was doing well for itself. Despite all this and his underlying excitement over returning to Erebor, Bilbo was still mulling over his own thoughts and his conversation with Bard.

“He is a good man, but I would keep him at a distance.”

“Doesn’t that contradict itself, Rega?” Bilbo looked up at the female dwarf, hardly even considering anymore how often she managed to read his mind. He was simply used to it by now.

“Not necessarily. He is selfless in that he is loyal to his own, but he will fight to achieve his goals."

"I wish I had known that much sooner," Bilbo muttered.

"He is a worthy ally. Imagine if we instead had the Master to deal with."

"No small mercy there."

Rega laughed and looked down at Bilbo with a fond smile.

"I have enjoyed this journey with you, Master Baggins. I am thankful that King Thorin asked me to travel with you."

"As am I. You have taught me many things along the way and, well," a slight blush crept into his cheeks, "I will miss you greatly."

"Do not feel sorrow when we part, dear friend. Our paths are bound to cross in the future if you decide to stay in Erebor."

"But don't you usually go out with the guard Dwalin commands?"

"Aye, who told you that?"

"I was talking to Dunmir about it. Sorry," he added, "I inquired about the dwarves I traveled with before."

"Do not worry, I was only curious. I am under Captain Dwalin's command and it is true we are mostly outside of the mountain." She paused and seemed to think to herself for a few moments before going on. "To be honest, I do not know where my future lies when we return. To be pulled from an important post that guards the kingdom from attack by King Thorin himself can speak of many things. I have often thought on it."

"So he just asked you to go with the others without specifying why?"

"As I've said before, we have known each other for quite some time. Still, our conversation was brief after Dwalin brought me to him, and I left the next day with the others."

"The next day? He didn't give you time to prepare?"

"That he was desperate was obvious to all of us. We had a duty to our king." She smiled knowingly. “There are only a few who dare to question him.”

Bilbo knew Thorin would have heard an earful from him over such a thing, but then he remembered how he agreed to do the very same when the king and his company arrived on his doorstep that one night. Thorin _was_ persuasive, yet there was something else to it that Bilbo realized over the course of their adventure. The dwarf was driven, dedicated, and had so much heart for what he believed in that Bilbo was certain it had an effect on him as well. It was why the other dwarves followed him to the point of almost losing their own lives a dozen times over, why Gandalf offered his help when it was clear he was needed elsewhere for much more dire matters. Truthfully there was none other like Thorin. He was a king that was loved even when the dragon sickness took over.

Bilbo couldn’t be any prouder, or more fearful.

After a short rest which consisted of the last of their water and cram (“Bless Mahal,” Bofur had said after a hard swallow, “and good riddance!”) they moved on with a lightness in their step. At least the dwarves did, anyway, chattering amongst themselves and singing as the gates grew ever closer. Bilbo was quiet as he tried to calm himself. He had never entered the front gates of Erebor before so it wasn’t as if his memories were causing him anxiety, but the fact that he just didn’t know what lay behind them made him want to either face it head on or run back to Dale. At least before he knew he was going in to face a dragon. Somehow, yet he was aware of how mad it was, he preferred Smaug to the unknown.

_Mad Baggins…_

Upon approaching the gate, the guards responded immediately. It was a mechanism like no other that Bilbo marveled at, watching as a handful of them were lowered to the ground on a platform that was worked by large gears turning after a simple lever was pulled. Rega was the one to walk forward while the others stayed where they were.

"Kíli,” Bilbo murmured, “I don’t know if-” He felt a hand sneak into his and squeeze gently.

“You can,” Kíli answered. When Bilbo looked up at him it was not with a smile but with a look of conviction that the prince regarded him with. “I know you can, and so do the others, but most importantly _you_ know you can. Uncle is not easy to be around nor is he how you remembered him.” Kíli swallowed hard. “But we need you, Bilbo.”

The hobbit squeezed his eyes shut, leaning into the lad before looking up at the gates once again.

Erebor. A kingdom once unknown to him that he fought for anyway, that he faced orcs and goblins and Smaug for all so that his dwarves would have their home back. He had even come to learn that they were not without a home all that time, that the Blue Mountains served them well, but still he knew the heartache they felt over losing it to such a horrible beast. The heartache that _Thorin_ felt.

 _I came back_ , he thought. _I came back because you wanted me to. Now you have to show me it was worth it._

A flutter of wings overhead drew his attention up to the sky. It didn't take him long to realize the tiny form of the bird belonged to that of a thrush flying back to the mountain. He smiled sadly, wondering if it was the very one who helped them all that time ago.

"Let's go, then," he said, voice strong. "I have some work to do."

Kíli let out a dry, almost humorless chuckle.

"You certainly do, Mister Baggins. You certainly do."

 

\- - - - - - - - - - 

Bilbo found himself in awe, jaw quite literally dropped as he regarded the massive hall in which he walked. He couldn’t see either end of it nor could he see the top, for above rose a combination of pillars, staircases, walkways, and what appeared to be stone buildings on multiple floors.

“It isn’t how you remembered it,” Kíli  said beside him. “The last time you were here this was all in ruin.”

“How...how in all of Arda did you restore this?”

For the most part it seemed to be laid out like one giant market, stands set up that ranged anywhere from small to large. Any number of livestock could be seen being led along the main stone pathway and countless carts holding numerous goods rolled by at a steady pace.

“It is our main trade center. Many parts make up Erebor, but to put it simply it is mostly broken into four districts; North, South, East, and West according to where our gates lie. We are, of course, in the South District. We receive most of what our people need for survival and have shops where they can sell their wares.”

“It’s not just here, though, is it? It goes up as well?”

“Aye,” Bofur chimed in. “You’ll find more shops up there, but that’s where our neighborhoods start.”

“Most of this isn’t permanent,” Kíli  went on. “There used to be stone buildings here that Smaug completely destroyed, but I wanted to make sure it was up and running since it’s our main source of income. The dwellings for families as well.”

“Can’t have a city without places to live,” Bofur winked. “Ah, let’s see if this cart’s available.”

Bilbo watched as Bofur chatted up a dwarf who was standing beside a decent sized cart. He found it curious that there were no ponies hooked up to it, but then it also seemed to be made out of material that definitely was not wood.

“One of our first coal-powered carts,” Kíli  explained.

“A cousin of mine wrote the plans,” Rega said proudly. “It is a work in progress, but she continues to improve them.”

“It certainly helps us get around faster.”

Bofur was successful and soon they were all climbing into the cart. One dwarf tended to the contained fire in the back while another handled what appeared to be a wheel in the front.

“Amazing,” Bilbo breathed.

They went at a pace slightly faster than that of a pony, but steady enough so that it did not disrupt the surrounding foot traffic. Pedestrian dwarves didn’t seem to mind, though, and for all Bilbo knew they were probably even used to it by now.

The hobbit was astounded at the bustling city around him and it was only one district! He was reminded of the Shire at times, especially when he overheard transactions taking place and watched animals being led by. From the height he now sat at he could just make out where the River Running flowed inside of the mountain. He always questioned the placement of the river, but Belis was happy to provide an answer when he voiced his curiosity.

“It’s an ancient system that pulls water up from the deepest of the mountain’s caverns. The water runs through the entire city and when it’s flushed it goes through a separate filter system before it is dumped in the river to be recycled."

“Isn’t there a possibility of the caverns drying up?

“There’s a good source of water constantly replacing it what with the river and Long Lake being close by. It’s something our forefathers worked hard on that even old Smaug only managed to do minor damages to the plumbing. Nothing we couldn’t fix right up.”

“You can see it from here,” Kíli said, “but there’s actually some soil along the river too. We use that to plant any number of crops that don’t necessarily need sunshine. Not our forté,” he chuckled, “but some of the men from Dale gave us advice.”

“That’s wonderful,” Bilbo smiled.

Along the way he continued to learn more about Erebor, how the East District traveled down into the depths of the mountain where the mining occurred and how the West District had all of the forges. It did seem easy to remember, but then all Bilbo had to do was look up or down to see how enormous and complicated Erebor was. He would venture a guess that even though the mountain wasn’t terribly wide the dwarves took full advantage of its height when they built the city. They must have always felt confident in their footsteps for some walkways didn’t even have railings, so Bilbo was thankful to be riding in a cart lest he find himself losing his footing or becoming dizzy from constantly gazing up. The city positively glowed and it was the most enchanting place Bilbo had ever seen aside from Rivendell.

“I just can’t believe you managed all this in a year,” he said quietly.

“This district has many hands working on it,” Kíli said. “Every time more dwarves come in something else is built. We’re very fortunate.”

It wasn’t until Bilbo wiped at his cheek that he realized a few tears had escaped. Surely it was emotional to see all they had fought for succeeding so well, but it was still embarrassing to be crying about it. He should be happy! Try as he might he couldn’t hide his face from Kíli for long, and the prince wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. He didn’t say anything else, though, for which Bilbo was grateful and only offered silent comfort until their cart reached their destination.

Before them rose a grand staircase Bilbo wasn’t certain he had noticed the last time he was there. It, thankfully, had railings gilded in gold and steps of the finest black stone.

“Thank ya, lads,” Bofur said to the two dwarves who pulled the cart to a stop. “We’ll take it from here.”

Bilbo stepped out of their ride with the others, gazing up at the stairs while Bofur lightly argued with their drivers when they refused to take a tip from him.

“Where are we going?” he wondered.

“This staircase leads to the throne room,” Kíli explained. Bilbo must have paled at this for the prince offered an apologetic smile. “Uncle requested to meet with you before dinner. We’ve made it in time so I can’t really come up with a way of getting you out of it.”

“It’s fine, I just…” He sighed, shaking out his arms as he looked behind at Bofur. “I need to do this, to see him. Are you ready, Bofur?”

“Aye, lad,” his friend said, cheerfully waving off the resigned drivers after putting his coin purse back in his pocket. “Up we go.”

For as grand of a staircase it was, it wasn’t as intimidating as Bilbo thought it was upon first setting eyes on it. Truly it was a sight to behold, and there was no doubt that it led to somewhere important, but it only had to have been a few minutes before they reached the landing. Or perhaps it felt much too short since Bilbo was anxious enough as it was.

_Now or never, Bilbo Baggins._

Before them a large set of open doors rose up to the ceiling as a handful of guards stood in front of the empty space.

“ _Nadad._ ”

Bilbo’s stomach lurched out of a mix of surprise and nostalgia at the familiar voice.

“Fee,” he heard Kíli breathe, and turned just in time to see the younger prince walk quickly off to their right and into the arms of his brother. “I missed you.”

“I am so very glad you had a safe journey. You did, right?” Fíli pulled away and examined his brother with a slight frown, but Kíli only laughed it off.

“A few scrapes here and there, but nothing terrible.”

“The orcs are the ones who didn’t get away so easy,” Bofur said, making the others chuckled. Fíli smiled again as he regarded the company, then his blue eyes fell on Bilbo and they softened so much that the hobbit felt his heart breaking.

He walked forward to meet the golden prince, but as Fíli approached him as well Bilbo noticed he lost the easy, loping grace he used to walk with. Now his gait seemed stiff and measured, as if he was taking care with where he placed each step. His hair was still half up in his usual fashion, but now he wore it in a way so that it covered his forehead. Still, the lad was eager to hug him although the embrace was a gentle one. Bilbo didn’t cling to him like he did to Kíli, for he wasn’t sure where all of his injuries lie, but he hung on for a few extra moments to allow his brain some time to process.

 _Alive_ , it confirmed, to which Bilbo rolled his eyes at himself. Of course he was, Bilbo knew he was, yet there was nothing like physical touch to reassure the whispering doubts.

“This feels like a dream,” he heard himself murmur.

“I have had quite enough of sleeping, Mister Bilbo,” Fíli answered.

Bilbo frowned and looked back up.

“I know you have, which is why I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“You’ll be tired of us in no time, I’m sure,” the lad winked, squeezing him once more before letting go.

“Not for a very long time, I hope,” Kíli quipped from behind them. They shared a laugh, but Bilbo soon noticed Fíli wincing. Kíli was instantly at his brother’s side, having noticed as well, and put an arm around his shoulders. "Forgive me, _nadad_ , I should know better.”

“Nonsense,” Fíli sighed, shaking his head. “If I didn’t laugh I would be a very grim dwarf indeed.”

“But your pain−” Bilbo politely looked away as they entered a light argument, listening just enough to realize that the injury Fíli took to his head from that battle was still affecting him to this day.

 _So that was what Bofur meant_ , he thought, recalling their previous conversation about the lads.

“-promise I will rest tonight, but for now we need to bring Mister Baggins in,” Fíli finalized. Bilbo looked up to find both princes looking down at him.

“Are we going in now?” he wondered.

“We have a guest,” Fíli said steadily, glancing once more at Kíli before addressing Bilbo again. “Dain Ironfoot is here.”

“Why?” Kíli demanded. Bilbo remembered Dain vaguely from the battle, never having met him but hearing about him from Thorin. From the look on Kíli’s face it was clear this wasn’t something he was overly pleased about. “What does he want?”

“I’m not certain.” Even Fíli looked uncertain, but he glanced behind his shoulder and into the throne room. “We should go in, though. I have a feeling he won’t be here for much longer.”

Kíli sighed but beckoned to the others to follow them in. The princes flanked Bilbo on either side as the guards parted for them, and he was grateful for it since he was instantly overwhelmed by the grand hall. It was as he imagined it, regal and grand with a high ceiling. Before them stretched a walkway that was no doubt meant to be perfect for dwarves yet perilous for those bigger folk who did not watch where their feet went.

“I thought he wasn’t meant to meet with Uncle for some time,” Kíli went on in a whisper.

“He came without warning about an hour ago,” Fíli said, “and they’ve been talking ever since.”

“He’s from the Iron Hills, right?” Bilbo wondered. “Does he still live there?”

“Once he found out that we all survived he saw no other choice.” There was a bitterness to Kíli’s voice that told Bilbo there was some unsavory history there. “He wished to remain a king but keep one hand in Erebor’s doings. Excuse me for saying so, Rega.”

“My loyalty is to King Thorin now,” Rega shrugged.

“He has every right to do so since he is an heir to the throne,” Fíli went on, “but I agree that I do not fully trust him either.”

The golden prince fell silent when they approached the throne, but Kíli was still unsettled as they came to stand behind Dain and his guard. Just as Bilbo tried to stand on his toes in order to see over their heads, one of the guards shifted and he was afforded a full-on view of Thorin sitting on the throne.

He looked…well, different. The streaks of silver, though always endearing to Bilbo, were more pronounced than he remembered and greater in number. They matched the crown on his head and the lining of silver on his blue cloak. His beard now reached halfway down his chest, also silvered, and small braids were woven into it along with dark blue beads the color of his eyes. His bearing was more of a king than the travelling warrior of the past, making his presence the largest in the room even as he sat.

_Thorin._

His voice echoed through the hall as he spoke, though it was harsher than what Bilbo remembered since his exchange with Dain was spoken in Khuzdul. Still, he was pleased to hear it despite everything. Thorin was healthy, alive, ruling his kingdom…

And now staring right at Bilbo.

Steel blue eyes were sharp when they shifted over to Bilbo, but soon the heavy brow over them rose slightly and a mild surprise seemed to take over. Thorin stood a moment later, looking uncertain of his action for a fleeting second, then glanced back at Dain before saying something else Bilbo couldn’t understand. It had the effect of making the grey-haired dwarf turn and seek him out.

“Well met, Master Baggins,” he said. “Had I known your arrival would be today I would have held off my visit. Forgive me, but it was quite urgent.” Bilbo found himself nodding, unsure of how to respond, however Dain seemed to find it acceptable. “I will not keep you, then.”

“Will you not stay for dinner?” Thorin asked hesitantly.

“I have business elsewhere tonight, but thank you.”

With a cordial nod to Thorin and one to Bilbo’s companions as he passed, Dain was off without another word with his guard following him.

“He never did like to stick around,” Kíli murmured, putting an arm around Bilbo as they all walked forward.

Thorin was still standing, but as they approached he stepped down from where his throne was until he was level with them. He schooled his features into one of regal calm, though after knowing him as intimately as he did Bilbo could almost see all the thoughts going through his head.

“Your journey was a safe one, I presume?” Thorin asked. He scrutinized Kíli first, then the others before his gaze rested back on Bilbo.

“It was, Uncle,” Kíli said.

“Good. You have my gratitude for undergoing such a task.”

Thorin finally came to stop in front of them, standing in front of Bilbo and offering the hobbit a small smile.

“Huh, ahem." In a fleeting moment of what he would later call insanity brought on by uncertainty and exhaustion, Bilbo did an odd movement in which he half-bowed then tried to take it back by pretending to inspect his feet.

_What on earth are you doing, Baggins?_

"…uh, hello,” he managed to squeak instead. He was much too tired for all of this.

All of the nerve he built up over the past year seemed to instantly melt away, leaving him trying desperately to control his stuttering and shaking. This was, in part, due to the fact that he suddenly felt like he was seeing a ghost of his past come to life. It wasn’t how it was supposed to be! He was supposed to be happy that his lover (and how strange that word still felt) wasn’t dead for all this time, but healthy and reigning over his once lost kingdom. It still wasn’t easy to accept. There were too many emotions left to be sorted through and he felt shattered. It had taken so much out of him to get to this point that suddenly he felt very exhausted, but there Thorin stood. Alive, both mentally and physically injured, but living and breathing. They were all given a second chance.

“Bilbo Baggins,” Thorin murmured in that deep voice. The hobbit curled his toes out of habit. “Welcome to Erebor.”

“Thank you,” he said politely. Upon closer inspection, Bilbo noticed that the king shared a similar weariness around his eyes with his younger nephew. “Your invitation was unexpected.”

“My hope is that we can forgive the past and move forward.” The hobbit slightly frowned, but before he could speak the sound of a deep, ringing bell could be heard throughout the hall. “You must be hungry,” Thorin went on. “Come, we shall all dine together in celebration of your safe return.”

“Ooh,” Bofur whistled after the king turned and led them on. “Never been invited to sup with the proper lords, have we Bif?”

“But I thought you were both lords?” Bilbo frowned. Thorin engaged in a conversation with both Fíli and Kíli ahead of them, leaving him behind to walk with the rest of the group. “And in any case I thought the whole company would dine together?”

“You have much still to learn, Bilbo,” Rega said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Much to fix as well, if our king is willing to listen.”

Bilbo was certain he didn’t like the sound of that.

 

**\- - - - - - - - - -**

_It’s too much. It’s all too much._

Bilbo stood in front of the crackling hearth in the grand room he was given, gripping the back of the chair that sat innocently by. His mind was a whirlwind as he recalled the events of the day, from talking to Bard, seeing Fíli and Thorin alive, having Thorin only speak a few words to him before sitting at the head of a table filled with lords and ladies who _stared_ at him while he ate! Fíli and Kíli had to sit by Thorin, but at least Bofur, Bifur, and the others were able to eat with him.

“I hope this isn’t the last time we eat together,” he admitted at one point. He didn’t like the lack of original company members, although he was thrilled to see Balin wink at him from where the white-haired dwarf sat next to Thorin. It was a pity he wasn’t able to talk to him that night, but Bilbo knew he would have a chance to later.

“Well,” Dunmir said after they all glanced at each other, “perhaps not here, but my wife is always fond of dinner guests on weekends.”

“And ya’d better stop over at my place at least once a week,” Bofur nudged him, “if not more.”

Their conversation was livelier after that, but Bilbo was still sad to say good-bye to them once dinner ended. Truthfully he was starting to feel very tired and after travelling together for so long they started to recognize the signs in the hobbit.

Dunmir and Belis bid him a good night with promises of writing soon and visiting. Rega slipped something into his hand- a bead, he later saw, with a carving of a sword that looked exactly like Sting- before placing both hands on his shoulders and smiling.

“Do not forget your courage, Bilbo Baggins. Until we meet again.”

When they left, Bifur mumbled something to Bofur that made the dwarf nod in agreement.

“Aye, let’s get you up to your room then, Bilbo, before you fall over on us.”

“I was hoping you would be the ones to escort me,” the hobbit admitted as he followed them up. There was a staircase off of the dining hall that they ascended and it was then that he started to feel his feet drag.

“It’s a rare opportunity, I tell ya. I’ve only been up here once or twice to visit Fíli when he was finally awake.”

Bilbo frowned, wondering why it was only once or twice but he was starting to notice a pattern. Those who were not royalty or in Thorin’s tight-knit group were not granted the same opportunities.

_Even if they fought beside him all the way from the Blue Mountains._

It was something that troubled him deeply and part of the reason why, despite how tired he was, he saw no sense in lying in his new bed and staring at the ceiling all night with those thoughts running through his head. Thorin may have changed, but he still did not trust those who would cause him no harm. Instead he seemed to fall back on the older dwarves that sat at the table that night. For all Bilbo knew the king could have known them all his life, but did they even fight to reclaim Erebor?

With a troubled sigh he contemplated at least sitting in the chair so he could rest, but before he could resign himself to it he heard a sturdy knock at his door. He felt both relieved at the interruption yet curious as to who would want to speak with him at such an hour. Perhaps it was guard or maybe...he paused before going to open the door. Maybe it was Thorin?

“Mister Bilbo?” came a muted yet familiar voice. Bilbo was quick, then, to reveal that it was Kíli standing on the other side of the door.

“What’s wrong, lad?” Almost immediately he noticed the lack of Fíli’s presence, but the young prince was soon smiling.

“Nothing, I promise. I know it’s late, but do would you like to join Fíli and I for a smoke?”

“I would love to,” Bilbo answered without a second thought. “You couldn’t have come at a better time.”

“You aren’t tired?” Kíli asked once Bilbo grabbed his pipe and they were walking down the corridor.

“Not at all, I’m afraid.”

“I’m glad I’m back home, but I do feel rather restless.”

“The feeling of not always having to be on alert is a strange one. You become used to the wild.”

_Plus the last time I was here I almost died multiple times, once by the hands of the one I loved who I also thought had died…_

It would take a while until he became used to the place.

“That must be it,” Kíli said. “Do you like it here? How about your rooms? I made sure everything was set up with your comfort in mind, but I’m afraid they’re a bit bare. It might be some time before we can spare the gold on making our rooms more lively.”

“I understand, lad,” Bilbo chuckled. “Really, I cannot get over how spoiled I’ve been already. A private bath and everything!”

“I wanted you to have a room in Durin’s Royal Hall,” Kíli said more evenly, a slight frown on his lips. “It...didn’t work out, though.”

“I promise you it’s fine. Look, it’s such a short walk that we’re here already!”

The Royal Hall was more heavily guarded than Bilbo’s corridor to the point where Kíli murmured something to a pair of them standing in front of a door before they stepped to the side. They still seemed suspicious of Bilbo until they got a good look at him, then murmured to themselves before bowing to the both of them and opening the door.

“They didn’t just bow to me too, did they?” Bilbo wondered once the door closed behind them.

“They’ve been told to,” came a voice over by the fire. Bilbo smiled when they walked over to see Fíli lounging on a velvet red loveseat, legs outstretched and back propped up against one arm while smoke hovered around him from his pipe.

“Really?” Bilbo wondered, sinking into one of the chairs while Kíli settled in with his brother. “Why?”

“You’re more than just a guest,” Kíli said. He insisted on Fíli remaining in the same position only with his legs resting on his lap. The younger prince seemed content with gently running a hand up and down his brother’s leg in a type of soothing, petting motion.

“You’re a member of our company,” Fíli nodded, passing his pipe to Kíli.

“You helped us regain Erebor, saved our lives half a dozen times, fought creatures larger than any of us...shall I go on?”

Bilbo blushed as he tried to focus on lighting his pipe, but he knew better than to try and convince the lads otherwise. Not when they were wearing such cheeky grins that were no doubt rare nowadays.

_That’s a sad thought…_

Now that Fíli had his hair braided back for the night Bilbo could see the angry, knotted scar that started from the tip of his right eyebrow and traveled up to the middle of his forehead. It distract from his handsome face, at least not to Bilbo, but it was obvious how gruesome the injury had been.

“Is this your ritual every night?” he wondered, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t staring. Fíli must have grown tired of such a thing.

“When we have the time,” Kíli shrugged. “Or sometimes we make the time. You’ll be hard pressed to get rid of me now that I haven’t seen you for a few months.”

“Oh, great,” Fíli drawled, rolling his eyes in mock disappointment. “Do you see what I have to put up with, Bilbo?”

Bilbo laughed as they exchanged playful banter, puffing his pipe and chiming in every now and then to agree with one on a certain point which would inevitably make the other defend themselves.

This went on for a time, making Bilbo happy and more relaxed, until they drifted into light chatter about what they had been up to when he was away. Bilbo was careful not to bring up any touchy subjects, such as the loss of their mother or the difficult months of healing after the battle, instead just listening to whatever they felt like talking about. There would be a time and a place for that, and he wanted them to be able to talk to him about it, but for now he only wished to enjoy their company.

He lost track of the time he spent with them until he started to notice Fíli's eyelids drooping. Before he could comment, however, there came a knock at the door that made the lads sit upright and exchange a look.

"Who could that be?" Kíli murmured as he extracted himself from Fíli and walked to the door. Bilbo suddenly felt very nervous for the lad, his protective instincts from the road kicking in, but before he could even stand the prince had the door open. A moment of silence, then, "Uncle?" as Kíli found his words.

Bilbo sensed Fíli looking straight at him, but the hobbit kept his gaze locked on Kíli's back.

"Is Master Baggins in with you?" came the king's low voice.

"Er, yes. Do you need him for something?"

Bilbo stood now and walked up to Kíli's side, smiling at the lad before looking up at Thorin. The dwarf seemed a bit at a loss, head slightly bowed and eyes shadowed as he regarded Bilbo.

"I'll be right back, Kíli." Bilbo patted his arm before stepping out the door, already decided. Whatever Thorin wanted it seemed to be a private matter.

"We'll wait up for you," the prince said softly.

There was a knot of apprehension in Bilbo's chest as he walked next to Thorin. It was a shame, really. There once was a time where he felt at ease around the king, content and able to freely speak his mind. Now he felt as if one wrong word would make their already delicate situation that much more uncomfortable. Still, he needed to press on if he wanted things to be right between them again.

“I almost can’t believe this is the same Erebor from a year ago,” he admitted for lack of anything better to say. He had no idea where Thorin was leading him, but soon they stopped in front of a heavily guarded door. Well, at least it was heavily guarded until Thorin murmured to the guards in Khuzdul and they swiftly moved to stand at the other side of the corridor. “Thank you,” he nodded as he walked through the door Thorin held open.

“Many things will not be as you remember them,” the king said as he followed. Bilbo barely processed his words, captivated as he was by the room itself.

It was bigger than his, with a high ceiling and a sliver of moonlight that shone from a crack down onto a large stone bed covered with fur blankets. Bilbo hadn't realized it before, but they must have been close to the top of the mountain in order for natural light to get in. The room was still dim but a fireplace gave off enough light to bathe the room in a soft, calm glow. The furniture, other than the bed, was made out of a deep wood, possibly mahogany. There was a desk filled with paperwork, various quills and ink and a winged-back chair sat regally awaiting its king. The high carpet was soft between his toes and he was certain he could sleep on it and be comfortable.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, “it’s very…you.”

_Beautiful just like you._

“I had this room growing up,” Thorin said. He wasn’t looking at Bilbo, instead he had his hands clasped behind his rigid back as he gazed around the room. “Smaug’s fire didn’t reached these halls, but there was damage as he moved about. There is still room for improvement.”

Bilbo couldn’t see how, but he stayed quiet on the matter. Clearly Thorin wanted to talk about something other than his chambers.

“How was the rest of your evening?” he asked carefully. Thorin finally turned to him, expression unreadable, and cocked his head.

“Busy, as usual. Nothing I cannot manage. Are your rooms to your liking?”

“Yes,” Bilbo nodded. “Much grander than what I’m used to, of course.”

“That can hardly be helped,” Thorin frowned. “Unless you would prefer something smaller?”

“No, what I meant to say is…” Bilbo huffed, shaking his head. “They are fine. Truly. I am honored to be given such accommodations during my stay.” Thorin walked over to stoke the dying flames in his fireplace while Bilbo dithered behind him. There was something in the way the king held himself that made Bilbo feel awkward. They were very clearly dancing around the oliphant in the room, but Thorin was almost being too careful about it.

“That is good to hear,” Thorin murmured. He was a shadow in the dim light of the room, the fire casting an almost ethereal glow around him.

 _Yet he is still real_ , Bilbo reminded himself.

“It is quite wonderful to see you so well,” he softly admitted. “I was told of your injuries.”

“A foolish mistake on my part. Had I not lost the shield of my namesake I would have fared better.” Thorin shook his head. “Much was lost that day.”

Surprised at these words, Bilbo moved closer to the dwarf.

“Whatever do you mean? The orcs were defeated, were they not? Azog was slain.”

“Yet his whelp lives on.” Thorin’s sharp features were outlined by the fire as he turned his head. “Again I could not erase that filthy line.”  

"It wasn't up to you to. How many others fought that day?”

“Too many. It was our fight and our fight alone.”

Dread rose in Bilbo as the words echoed a fever-minded Thorin from the past, but he managed to keep it contained. Surely he couldn’t mean that?

_Although he isn’t entirely rid of the dragon sickness, now, is he._

“Thorin,” he said steadily. “Dwarves, men, and elves sacrificed themselves. They all fought for freedom.”

“They had their eyes set on Erebor from the start. As soon as Smaug was extinguished all they wanted was my gold.”

“Do you still not hear yourself?” Bilbo didn’t flinch as Thorin slowly turned to him, blue eyes tired and brow furrowed.

“Do not think that I don’t,” the king said. “Do not think I am unaware of the demons inside of me, but hear me when I say that none other will turn an eye unto Erebor unless they only wish to trade with us. That I have already allowed you back into this city is enough.”

“Do you trust me?” Bilbo asked softly. His heart went out to Thorin as it always did, but he had to know the truth. When Thorin didn’t respond he knew he had his answer. “Fíli and Kíli are doing well,” he said instead, pretending he wasn’t hurt by it. He had much practice with that lately.

"Fíli is suffering quietly." Thorin moved towards the large wardrobe, carefully taking his robes off and hanging them inside. The stretch of thin, blue fabric across his chest was enough to distract Bilbo before the hobbit realized what he said.

“What do you mean?”

“He is not like he used to be.”

“No one is,” Bilbo shook his head. “I’m certainly not, neither is Kíli or _Bofur_ , for goodness sake, nor should we be expected not to have been affected by what happened. You nearly died, Thorin. We all did, but you and the lads especially.” He could hear his voice raising as his emotions were starting to get the better of him. It was all too much and Thorin was still being stubborn!

“We move on, Bilbo. It is what we have always done.”

“You weren’t content to just move on when Gandalf gave you that map and key.”

“It was my duty,” Thorin said, walking back over to Bilbo now. He stood before him, piercing eyes locked on the hobbit. “We were not ready for that battle and we paid dearly for it, but now we move on.”

“You cannot ignore the hold it has over you. Thorin, I’m saying this to you as a friend.” Bilbo reached out and took his hand, swallowing hard at the feeling of familiar rough skin against his. It had been too long. “Whether you consider me to be or not, I would not lie to you.”

“You have done so in the past,” Thorin murmured. Instead of pulling away the king drew Bilbo closer, trailing his palm up the hobbit’s arm until pressing it flat against his shoulder blade. Bilbo’s breath hitched as the smell of the dwarf surrounded him and it would have brought tears to his eyes had he not willed them back.

"I would say you could trust me now,” Bilbo countered, “but it does not seem you are willing to do even that.”

Thorin tilted his head down until his lips hovered in front of Bilbo’s, breath hot and awaking something else entirely in the hobbit.

“I have forgiven you,” Thorin murmured. Bilbo watched his lips as he talked, mouth dry and longing to taste them. “But no. I do not trust you.”

“Then I guess I will settle for that for now.”

He broke the rest of the distance between them, covering Thorin’s lips with his own, pressing into him until strong arms pulled him even closer. Beard scratched against his chin, a warm tongue caressed his own, and soon enough he felt the comfort of a soft bed under his back.

It was not love that drove him to it, although he would love Thorin until his dying breath, but it was desperation that had Bilbo succumbing to the king unbuttoning his simple shirt and placing rough kisses on his chest until he had to stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from mewling like a cat in heat. Or crying as memories came rushing back, but in the moment he tried only to focus on the act itself and not how terrible of an idea it was.

He tangled his fingers in Thorin’s dark hair, one of many things he thought he would never be able to do again, and pulled the king back up so he could kiss him roughly once more. He arched his back and allowed Thorin to slip off his shirt, immediately seeking more contact as his bare skin rubbed against soft linen. He felt the cool buttons of that blue shirt between his own fingers, looking down at the small sapphires as he broke away gasping for air. Instantly lips were at his ear and he lost all sense of what he was doing as his eyes fluttered shut and his legs wrapped around Thorin’s thick waist out of their own volition. Thorin groaned, causing more spasms to course through Bilbo’s body, and began rocking into him as he continued to lavish attention on the hobbit’s sensitive ear.

Not a word was spoken between them but the tension was still present. Thorin was almost too fast, working on pulling down Bilbo’s trousers before the hobbit could even go back to working on his shirt, and he was down on him a moment later.

“Thorin!” Bilbo cried.

He slapped a hand over his mouth and immediately felt a blush creep into his cheeks. The only response he received was a low growl, the sound shooting vibrations up his cock and into his belly. All he could do was sink further into the bed and give in completely. Before he could fully reach his peak, however, Thorin was agonizingly slow to pull away and slink back up to hover over him. Bilbo looked up at him throw a haze clouding his vision, reached up with one hand to grab his hair again while slipping buttons free with the other. Thorin watched him intently, eyes dark and lips red, one tooth peeking out from where it bit his bottom lip. He was gorgeous, and infuriating, and Bilbo wished it had been like this all along only without the mistrust and doubt. Just the two of them, perhaps married by that point and happy together, but that was not the way of their world.

“Oh,” Bilbo breathed. His fingers had skimmed across something rough when he managed to slip Thorin’s shirt off. Looking down, a white bandage stood out against the shadows of the king’s skin. It covered from just under his collar bone down to his abdomen. Bilbo only hoped the actual wound wasn’t that big.

Thorin still didn’t say a word though he took some pressure off of his side in favor of releasing himself from his trousers. Now they were both unclothed, something the king took full advantage of. Still wet from his mouth, Bilbo felt the slick movement of a thick dwarfhood pressing into him before a calloused hand wrapped around them both. Again he groaned, this time with the distant thought of the guards standing outside the room. As hard as he was, though, as much as the continually stunning revelation that it was _Thorin_ doing this and not some dream manifestation of the dwarf, something crawled under his skin and just wouldn’t allow him to let go.

Thorin grunted after a time as Bilbo lay there trying so desperately to find his release. A hand tugged hard at curly hair and the hobbit winced, but he didn’t protest. Only when he felt sticky warmth between his legs did he shudder hard and reached something barely even close to a satisfying ending. Desire still coursed through him, but this time he knew better than to seek a way to stem it. Not with Thorin, anyway. The king lay at his side, breathing hard and coughing slightly.

“Are you all right?” Bilbo muttered out of habit. He glanced over at him and saw he had a hand at his chest.

“Yes,” then, after a pause, “I wish to be left alone.”

Bilbo could hardly argue with that, quick to stand back up and put his clothes on. There was an odd taste in his mouth as he made for the door. He could still taste Thorin on his lips, but the embarrassment that started to settle in made his mouth unpleasantly dry. A glance behind showed that Thorin buried himself under the large fur blanket on his bed and that was enough to make Bilbo leave before he said something he would regret.

Out in the corridor the guards expressed no interest in him as he passed them by, moving to stand in front of Thorin’s door once again, but when he almost walked past Fíli and Kíli’s room he paused and looked up at one of them.

“Down the hallway and to the left,” they said gruffly.

Bilbo blinked, his mind slow to make sense of the words.

“I’m sorry...oh, no, thank you, but I was wondering if I could see the princes again?”

The guard looked over at their partner, who shrugged one shoulder and stepped to the side.

“You may enter.”

“Thank you,” Bilbo murmured again, knocking once before entering. He suddenly realized he had no idea what to say if the princes asked him what Thorin wanted, but a quick glance around the room showed that they had already gone to bed.

Rather than go back to his own room, Bilbo’s feet took him to the side of the grand bed that held two snoring dwarves curled around each other under the blankets. Fíli’s head was tucked under Kíli’s chin and the younger prince had an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Bilbo smiled, tears stinging the back of his eyes, but even though he knew they wouldn’t mind if he crawled in he couldn’t imagine disturbing their slumber. He walked back to one of the chairs in front of the fireplace instead, drawing his knees up to his chin as he stared at the low flames.

 _Foolish Bilbo Baggins_ , whispered a voice in the back of his head. He closed his eyes, a hand traveling to the braid in his hair before he was jolted into a horrible reality.

Hazel eyes shot back open and widened in panic as the search for the braid Thorin put in his hair a year ago couldn’t be found. Only then did tears roll down his cheeks as he realized it must have been loosened when he was in bed with Thorin for it had still been there before he entered the king’s room. For so long he had it, careful to rebraid it whenever it was in danger of losing its shape, only to be completely gone in a matter of moments.

Bilbo wept silently as he sat there for the rest of the evening, the snoring of the princes his only source of comfort.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed and thanks again for reading! As always, you can find me on tumblr (http://pentamatr.tumblr.com/) for a chat about anything you like. Any suggestions as to what you want to see in this story are welcome as well.
> 
> How about that teaser trailer, eh? I'm still emotionally compromised...


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